


Skin Against Skin

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-31
Updated: 2000-01-31
Packaged: 2018-11-11 00:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11137800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	Skin Against Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    Disclaimer: Alliance owns Ray and Fraser.
    
    leadpoisoning@hotmail.com
    
    Skin Against Skin
    by
    Rae
    *******
    
    His hand is trembling. Christ, it hurts. His fingers are numb. He struggles
    again to grip the razor. The blood makes the metal slick and it keeps
    slipping from his grasp. One more. Just one more. He reaches up behind
    him and pulls the motel towel off the top of the sink. Hastily, he wipes
    his hands on it and rubs the razorblade up and down. Perserverence. He
    puts the the towel in his mouth to muffle his cry as he did when he opened
    the other wrist. Determination.  His teeth clamp down hard on the soft
    cloth as he makes the next slash. Quick. Burn. Hurts. But just for a
    moment. Just for a moment. He pulls the towel from his mouth and lies
    down on the cold tile. Dizzy. His head begins to swim. He rakes his hand
    through his blond spikes, smearing his hair and face with blood. How
    much easier this would have been with a gun. A bullet. He could do this,
    take the pain and the time, but he didn't have the courage to face his
    own weapon. This thought makes him laugh. And now he keeps laughing.
    He can't stop himself. He keeps laughing. Pain. He laughs harder. Still
    hurts. But just for a moment. It doesn't last..... 
    
    
    It begins with a revelation, a secret uncovered. There is always the
    fear of rejection. He has so much rejection in  his life already, but
    he pushes aside that fear to confess the thing that has been a weight
    on his heart all these months. *Fraser, can I talk to ya?*
    He feels his heart pound. He wonders if the fear is so visible in his
    face and eyes. *Of course, Ray.* 
    They move into the empty interrogation room. Fraser leans sits at the
    table, Ray leans against the wall. *Something I need to tell ya.*
    His stomach twists in knots. He can hear the rush of blood in his veins.
    His head feels so light. Somewhere within him, there is the hope of acceptance
    and he can not crush the excitement that comes with it. *What is it,
    Ray?*
    He takes a deep breath and stuffs his hands  into the pockets of his
    faded blue jeans. *I, uh...This is gonna sound strange, but....* 
    He sighs nervously. In his head he has played out this scenerio over
    and over a dozen times. *Ray...*
    He looks at the Mountie.  Those beautiful sky blue eyes are full of concern.
    Ray blinks, tries to fight back the waves of panic that are rising within
    him. *Fraser, ya meant all that stuff ya said about...* 
    Again his voice trails off. God, why is this so hard? He sighs and looks
    down at his feet. *I dunno any other way to say this, so I'm just gonna
    come out and say it.* Fraser's tilts his head ever so slightly. Ray's
    head is throbbing. *I... love you, Frase.* 
    The Mountie smiles warmly. The so familiar smile that always melted his
    heart. *And I you, Ray.* 
    His heart drops.  Symbolically or something. Fraser doesn't understand.
    He turns away slightly, resting his head against the wall. *N-not like
    that. N-not in way you're thinking.*
    He struggles with these words. His partner's brow furrows with confusion.
    *Not symbolically?* 
    So gentle, the way he asks. Ray shakes his head. His hands clench into
    fists, pushing against the confining space of his pockets. *N-no. I...*
    He closes his eyes, takes another deep breath.
    *I'm in love with you.*
    *M-maybe from the first time I saw you, I don't know.  But I can't stop
    thinkin' about it. I-I can't be around you with this is my head.*  He
    opens his eyes, but keeps his eyes on the floor.
    *Is there any chance for us, Frase?*
    Finally, he looks at the Mountie. His partner's face is a mask. He can't
    read the expression. Ray feels the tears rise behind his eyes. He tries
    to swallow around the lump in his throat. The silence is unbearable.
    *P-please talk to me.* 
    His voice is barely a whisper, but Fraser hears him.
    *Ray....*
    He gasps softly. He knows that tone so well. Too well.  
    *I care about you. Very much. As a partner and as a friend. Please believe
    me when I tell you that. And you are a very attractive man--* Ray wants
    to leave, he wants to walk out. 
    *But..?*
    The Mountie fidgets nervously in his seat. Ray can see his partner's
    discomfort and he hates himself for being the cause of it. *I am a heterosexual,
    Ray and it is not---*
    He can't take it anymore. He turns suddenly and walks from the interrogation
    room. *Ray. *
    He can hear the chair scratch against the floor as the Mountie pushes
    it back. *Ray.*
    He is already out the door and moving down the hall.
    *Ray!*
    That voice is lost somewhere behind him, amidst the hustle of the precinct.
    He breaks into a run as he gets outside. The GTO seems far away. Further
    away than he parked it this morning. As he pulls the car out of the parking
    space, he sees the Mountie running out of the building. Fraser runs after
    the retreating car, but he is unable to catch up with it before Ray swerves
    into traffic.   Tears blur his vision as he drives and he rubs his eyes
    until they are sore. This changes everything between them. He can't face
    his partner now, can't bear to see that look on his face. The only one
    he wants, the one he has fallen so deeply in love with, doesn't want
    him. Why should that be a surprise? He was expecting this. Expecting
    the rejection. But he can't get over it, can't let it go. 
    
    
    He's very close to loosing consciousness now. Strange feeling. He is
    at eye level with the tile. Everything is different from down here. The
    blood flows between the tiles, filling the lines like a tiny, bending
    river. Ray watches this with fascination, idly guessing into which crevice
    it will flow next. He sucks in a breath, feeling his lungs tighten painfully
    with the effort. There is a sound. A key turning in a lock? He tries
    to raise his head, but this small act takes far too much effort. Footsteps.
    A small smile crosses his lips. Fraser. /Yer too late, buddy./  He isn't
    sure it he thinks it, or says it. The bathroom door opens. He sees the
    red serge, a blur before his exhausted eyes. Sky blue eyes look down
    at him lovingly. Fraser says nothing. He reaches down and cups Ray's
    cheek. Ray smiles softly.  The Mountie takes Ray's hand into his own
    and gently twines their fingers together. Ray tries to squeeze his partner's
    hand, but he can't. All he can feel is cold, wet skin. /Fraser, help
    me./  He awakes with a start. His body is numb and he is alone. Fraser
    could never find him here. Tears. Ray closes his eyes and whimpers softly.
    Next door, there is music playing. Korn.  Or something very heavy. His
    head aches. He wishes they would turn the volume down. He struggles for
    another breath and shifts his body slightly. Ray can no longer move his
    arms. This is familiar somehow. Drowning. He's drowning. The Henry Allen.
    Breath. The slow glide of skin against skin. Ray  tries to stay awake.
    Tries. Staring at the ceiling, a billion tiny dots, he realizes that
    he will die alone.  The same way he lived. 
    
    
    
    Benton Fraser stands in the middle of Ray's apartment, turning his stetson
    over in his hands.  Ray has not come home yet; the GTO is not in the
    parking lot. But Ben will wait. He needs to talk to his partner. He needs
    to corner him, so he will be forced to listen. It was not his intention
    to hurt Ray and he will not allow this to damage their friendship. He
    sits down on the couch and set his stetson on the coffee table. He would
    wait for Ray. Even if it takes all night. 
    
    End
    
    


End file.
